


Mutual Recursion

by Chromat1cs



Series: Data Flood [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AKA my favorite sci-fi trope, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Android Sirius, Body Modification, Explicit Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Injured Remus, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Robot Kink, Robot/Human Relationships, Rough Body Play, Sex Robots, learning how to love, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 02:14:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15985436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chromat1cs/pseuds/Chromat1cs
Summary: “Alan Turing is absolutely somersaulting in his grave right now, I hope you know this,” Remus says softly, finally lending a bit of true levity to the air.Sirius laughs, an open-throated and free-ringing laugh to rival the rumble of the storm outside, and Remus feels his heart tug at its edges with warm satisfaction as the android looks back down at him flush with approval. “I have it on good authority that he was apparently more of a cartwheeler.”—Remus is falling in love but he hates the term, and part of him doesn’t even know how it can logically apply to an android. But there’s bound to be consequences when he’s got to start being awfully domestic and repair Sirius’ parts on his own after six months, and the weather outside only keeps being terrible—so it isn’t very strange at all that he finds himself more and more drawn to the android like a beacon in the middle of it all.Right?





	Mutual Recursion

**_Mutual Recursion:_ ** _a form of function definition where two mathematical or computational objects, such as data types, are defined in terms of each other._

_—_

He thinks it first one night amid a brilliant flash of lightning that slices through the window, the PulseCore billboard shouting emerald green now to advertise the new S-05 models out last week overtaken by the white light for just a moment.

_I love you,_ the intrusive thought that Remus feels start at the back of his tongue before careening down through his body like a fault line. He starts, blinking rapidly to himself, his mouth gone dry for a split second. Sirius looks over at him calmly, the cut of his profile shifting with the shadows of the apartment’s angles to throw him into an abstract of severe beauty.

“All’s well?” he hums, his pupils refocusing in steady little movements.

“Yeah, sorry,” Remus lies through his teeth, “just a chill.”

Sirius draws him closer and plays gentle fingers along the soft undercut at the base of Remus’ skull while Remus nuzzles against the ruby-pink glow of Sirius’ core processor. “No need for sorry,” Sirius murmurs, and Remus feels the thrum of Sirius’ voice against him—repeatedly and quietly floored, even after six months of living with an S-04, that the android is honestly this lifelike. The old plain-color movie on the screens fades into blandness as Remus tunes to ears to the soft churn of Sirius’ internal processing, comforting from this close.

It should be easy then, to out and say it in this coil of gentleness— _I love you_. Should be as easy as drawing breath, as Remus does, and yet his next words are instead, either by internal resistance or the purpose of rampant self-preservation, “Can I go down on you?”

Come hell or higher water, let it never be said that Remus Lupin is unpredictable.

“Of course,” Sirius says, genial, habitual, the functional drive of it softened with the distinctly natural way he kisses Remus’ forehead before begins to shift himself to lie long-ways along the sofa in the way that’s become their norm in quiet early-evenings. Remus feels a buzz in his core like his subconscious sighing knowingly at this tactic of his: _distressed by your own internal impulses? Shut them down with a good fuck._ As ever, he ignores it bodily.

Remus wriggles into his own splay on his stomach, legs straight out behind him so as not to murder his knees and the deadened hardware attached there with a kneel. He centers himself comfortably propped at the height of Sirius’ thighs and sets to the ties on the android’s lounge pants before Sirius touches gently at Remus’ cheek. Remus looks at him, up over the landscape of those maddeningly perfect abdominals, with vague irritation. “What.”

“You’re distressed.”

“Could that be due in part to the fact that I’m trying to suck you off and you’re looking at me like I’ve just said I want to drown myself?”

Sirius does nothing but tune his gaze to be a tad softer, and Remus heaves a sigh as he presses the side of his face ardently into Sirius’ hand. “Sorry. ‘M not distressed. Just tired.”

“Would you rather me pleasure you?” Sirius asks, accenting the proposed switch with a brush if his thumb along the seam of Remus’ lips. Unthinkingly, Remus sucks the finger tip into his mouth at stripes its pad with a lazy tongue—sudden pride spangles in his guts as he watches Sirius’ processor bloom faintly at that.

“No.”

Remus turns back to the android’s waistband and undoes the loose bow fastened there with a delicate pull. He runs a palm along the curve of Sirius’ hips, relishing the solid warmth there as he bites down on his lip with reigned eagerness. “No,” Remus repeats, almost to himself; “you know I fucking adore doing this.”

The android sniffs a laugh at that, an airy sound that hitches and turns into a swallowed groan when Remus leans in to open-mouth kiss the head of his cock through Sirius’ clothing. “Proceed,” Sirius insists with a voice that twitches around its edges just like his stiffening sex.

“Thank you kindly,” Remus hums. He meets Sirius’ gaze, chin resting on the android’s hipbone, and smiles with muzzy satisfaction. If he looks deeply enough into those silver eyes, it’s almost as if most of his thoughts cycle back in on themselves and phase one another out. Almost. There’s work to be done to quiet the rest them.

Remus slides off Sirius’ lounge pants with help from the android’s graceful maneuvering of those long legs, up and back down and grounded beneath Remus’ torso as Remus moves in to toy with the gap in the front of the silk undershorts left behind. They’ve tented impressively with the advent of Sirius’ processing injunction to seek pleasure just as well as he gives it, and Remus wraps a hand around the base of Sirius’ cock to hold it stable and pulsing as he returns to the trapped head again and flatten his tongue against it. Remus watches intently as Sirius’ eyelids flutter, his own arousal pooling in his belly to see the android’s head tipped back slightly, neck corded, brow furrowed ever so slightly—Remus tongues his tip again for self-indulgence’s sake before guiding SIrius’ massive cock out of his undershorts to stand free.

They’ve fucked well over a hundred times since Sirius’ arrival, certainly nearing two-hundred at this point, but Remus doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of the sight of a full erection from the android. Even just holding its base as it stands plain, hot and silken and pulsing with coolant and dormant lubricant, Remus can’t help but grind his own hips down into the cushion beneath him to shunt the shocks of abject desire threatening to overtake him.

“Wet it for me,” Remus murmurs. He feels the blood high in his cheeks in a flush, and he clenches his back teeth to keep from falling to helpless pieces as Sirius obeys and lets a healthy measure of clear moisture drool up and out of his cock. Remus’ own length twitches in response. He spreads the majority of the lubricant with his thumb, taking extra care to tease at Sirius’ slit as he does, and lick his lips in eager preparation.

“I’m glad this makes you so happy.”

Remus pauses just an inch away from Sirius’ cockhead, his tongue half out as his eyes flick up to meet Sirius’. He’s struck with the staggering genuineness he sees there looking back at him—open, inviting, so complex that Remus forgets more often than not that Sirius is a droid constructed and coded for pleasure and aid. He almost says it again— _I love you,_ reaching the roof of his mouth in a riotous flailing of purchase before Remus can clamp his mouth shut on it and hew it in half to only make a weak little noise in response. Sirius’s eyebrows twitch and he tips his head to the side slightly. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Just my knees,” Remus says quickly, “now hush.”

Remus summarily dips his mouth down around Sirius’ cock, the tasteless lubricant sliding over and into his lips as he takes the length down as deep as it will go, and focuses on the way Sirius’ thigh muscles twitch madly in positive response. _Shut it down, Lupin,_ Remus thinks to himself, laving his tongue with hungry attention in whorls along the android’s skin as he relaxes his throat with each bob of his head.

Sirius buries his fingers in Remus’ hair with a feathery moan after several sweeps of Remus’ lips. He’s become more vocal over the last few months, his systems conditioned to perpetually adapt to what brings the most sharpened responses out of Remus. As Remus begins to move his slicked fist at the base of the android’s cock in tandem with his mouth’s rhythm, Sirius’ hips buck shallowly to match and push his length ever further into Remus’ throat.

“You like it deep, don’t you?” Sirius breathes. Remus looks up at that face, coloring steadily with a suffusion of coolant in his cheeks, and hums the affirmative around the heft of the cock over which his tongue is coiling is complex and slightly-unhinged patterns. Sirius’ lower body seizes with a shallow tremble at that and his processor flashes deep red in the middle-dark of the sitting room, and so Remus does it again—a low hum from the hollow of his windpipe, mellifluous and still grounded in his chest, that may or not be the unvoiced declaration he’s been quashing. _I love you, I love you, I love you._

Thankfully the only way it translates now is a delicious vibration, and as lubricant leaks from the head of Sirius’ cock in reply to its sensation Remus redoubles his attention over the gorgeous organ. His fist slides easily along its lower quarter as his mouth covers the rest of its majority with voracious talent, intent and focused in all the right places. He’s done his own share of learning over the last six months, combining old knowledge from lightbike bar hookups in the time before his accident with the new discoveries about himself and his own body that Sirius has brought to light with patience and poise and pure _sex_ —Remus is long past caring that the android has been engineered specifically to make it good every time. Remus has enough human awkwardness for the both of them, handicapped to boot. He’s far more comfortable now just reveling in it.

Remus strikes the match of a perfect rhythm between mouth, hand, and his own rutting into the cushion beneath him. It carries along for several minutes, white noise enjoyment fuzzing his mind pleasantly, nothing extant beyond this microcosm of soft noises and low oaths from Sirius while Remus interjects at all the right times with soft moans of his own to tease at the android’s sensitivity. Soon enough, Sirius’ fist tightens in Remus’ hair and tugs Remus’ gaze up to look at him. _Fuck_ ; he’s unbound as a flawless machine can be, false lungs heaving and processor blazing almost purple from beneath his shirt as Remus stills his movements for the briefest shaving of a second.

“I want to finish,” he murmurs, pupils huge and almost lost in the quiet of the apartment. Remus steals a bolt of selfish pride to lick him slowly in concentrated laps just under his head before he replies. Sirius arches desperately into the tease as Remus hears one of the fans in the android’s abdomen kick into overdrive. It’s the hardware equivalent of the breathless, pleading sound that rips its way out of Sirius’ mouth, and Remus is absolutely mad for it.

“Come on then,” Remus replies. Sirius looks back down at him, grip on his hair still insistent but relaxing slightly as he lets out a feathering sigh that might be translated as thanks in the dark. Remus locks their gazes together, molten, with a curling feeling like ink in oil, and takes Sirius full in his mouth again. It takes only a few more passes up and down before Sirius’ body tightens in telltale tension, and Remus relaxes his throat and takes Sirius deeper as the android begins to come in thick ropes. Remus swallows as best he can, dribbles of the ever-impressive load inevitably breaching past his lips to join the swipes of saliva and lubricant left at the base of Sirius’ cock, riding the high of such basal attraction to release. He closes his eyes as Sirius cries out softly, Remus’ name in the shape of his voice more than once, and continues to suck softly as Sirius’ climax sees itself through.

Eventually Sirius is down from the jagged heights of his finale and shifts his hips gently to encourage Remus to pull off. Remus gives in reluctantly, and his mouth and right hand are still well-slicked with residue as he gestures for Sirius to move forward. “Here,” Remus grunts, his voice slightly bruised, “sit at the center here.”

Sirius slides over with fresh energy, never a victim of the painfully human post-orgasmic torpor, as he sits up and helps Remus maneuver into a sit in his lap. Remus lifts his knees carefully to splay his legs on either side of Sirius’ waist, and his shorts gap at the leg as he does so to let his own rodded cock jump free between their bodies. Sirius grips Remus solidly by the thighs and pulls him into a kiss, as though the tongue sweeping artfully into Remus’ mouth could taste the slightly-sweet coolant-edged tint left on Remus’ own tongue.

“That was lovely,” Sirius says softly when he pulls back. His eyes are shadowed with a sex-hazed expert shift of light and aperture, and Remus bites down hard on his own bottom lip as he takes his aching length in the slicked-up hand that had worked at Sirius and begins to tease himself.

_“You’re_ lovely,” he replies. SIrius smiles before he leans forward and presses a trail of slow, even kisses to the left junction of Remus’ neck and shoulder. Remus’ mouth falls open with a soundless gasp and Sirius kneads his fingers into Remus’ legs with a shade of encouragement— _Come on then._

Remus wraps his free hand around Sirius’ bicep to ground himself, feel the corded strength tightened there, human, human, _human_ , yes, it’s absolutely possible to fall in love with something so near to reality and he feels that truth in his blood, the same blood in his heart, the same blood in his veins, the same blood rioting with rhythmic richness in his cock as he breathes in the nearness of this perfect companion. Remus groans tightly around a tremulous _“Fuck,_ Sirius,” as the android slides his hands higher to Remus’ flexed buttocks and pulls him nearer.

“Did you get worked up by making me come in your mouth?” Sirius whispers against the shell of Remus’ ear.

“Yeah.” Remus hardly feels like he owns his breath in response.

“And you like using my leftovers to make you wet along the way, don’t you?”

Sirius all but growls the words and Remus can’t stop the defenseless half-sob of white-hot arousal that leaps out of him. _“Yes.”_

Sirius licks a slow path up Remus’ neck as Remus recklessly increases the pace of his hand. “Eager little minx,” Sirius says at the height of Remus’s jaw, and he teethes at Remus’ earlobe for beautifully agonized second of pause. “You get yourself so hot from showing off to me, do you like knowing there’s someone watching you?”

_Fucking hell,_ Sirius’ processing has gotten good at knowing how to phrase its chatter to make Remus lose his mind. “I—fucking love it when you watch me,” Remus gasps. His eyes are squeezed shut to everything besides the mounting pleasure in his hand and surrounding him with Sirius’ arms, but he responds with open-mouth desperation when Sirius pulls him into another kiss.

“Oh, I’m watching,” Sirius hisses against Remus’ lips when he pulls back. Remus groans and feels his resolve slip dangerously, tries to hold fast to it, fails miserably. His hand stutters across his cock with building speed, his own precum mixing in with the leftover lubricant and ejaculate to throw him further into swirling bliss, and he feels his breath catch with a warning snag in his chest.

“I’m close,” Remus blurts, his voice breaking, as he arches backward slightly to open the singing tightness in his core muscles and let them flex for a bit more sweetness in the feeling. Sirius slides his hands up to Remus’ back to support him and let him lean back a little further while Remus tightens his thighs around Sirius’ waist.

“Fuck your fist and come for me,” Sirius commands him—a shift he’s adapted to particularly well after about two months of deducing which angles of speech have the shortest route to Remus’ climaxes. Remus’ insides seize with violent arrival at that, and he throws his head back slightly as he revels in the churn of submission that does him in every fucking time.

“Sirius, I’m—oh _fuck,”_ Remus whimpers after another second of gasping silence, not even able to finish articulating beyond the curse before he comes with a hard jolt of his hips. He cries out with wordless splendor as he pumps his fist with its last strokes to let out several pulses that land mostly on Sirius’ chest. Reduced to languorous satisfaction, he finally opens his eyes while he catches his breath again.

“Sorry,” he pants, nodding his chin at the milky strands along Sirius’ shirt.

“No need for sorry,” Sirius says again with a soft chuckle. He pulls Remus upright and kisses him, all gentleness and warmth, and Remus is quietly in awe of the way he’s learned to shift from sweetness to harsh sex appeal and back again. Would that he could himself, but Remus knows he can make due with what he’s got. Especially if he’s got Sirius to offset it.

Remus stares for a little while at Sirius’ face when they separate again, still drawing his own breath back down to normal while he drinks in the easy grace looking back at him. He almost says it again, _I love you_ —but this time the words stay a safer distance back and die just behind his heart instead of the boundary of his teeth.

“Thanks,” Remus settles for rasping. Sirius kisses him again and ruffles at Remus’ hair, a new habit he’s begun that Remus likes just a bit more than he’s annoyed by so he’s let it stay.

“Anything for you.”

—

It’s another month until Remus feels the push to profess ridiculous feelings, but it’s cut off conveniently with the need to improvise.

Sirius’ eyes shutter rapidly one morning, hunched over with his reading tablet as Remus works through breakfast while rain hammers at the plexi just beyond the kitchen—about to out and crow _I love you!_ for the perfection of the way Sirius has cooked the protein into something far more palatable than the normal slab in which it arrives from delivery—before the android straightens in his seat and blinks a few times as though clearing dust from his vision. Remus swallows his ridiculous impulse and waits for Sirius to change the subject to something hopefully less reckless.

“There’s been an update from PulseCore,” Sirius announces, as though reading from a scrolling script he doesn’t yet know the words to. “Due to the successful release of S-05 models six weeks ago, PulseCore central processing will no longer service repairs or reprogramming for S-04 models.”

Remus frowns and tries to ignore the unconscious tightening in his lungs. “What does that entail, will you still get software updates?”

“Software updates proceed as normal, all PulseCore androids function on the same operating system and remote servers,” Sirius explains, slipping into a more analytical cadence as his eyes dull, staring ahead of him while he digs into his internal manual. “However, the release of updated models has officially outmoded all prior PulseCore android hardware. The only model currently supported by in-house PulseCore repair technicians is PulseCore S-05. For more information, please say ‘Tell me more.’”

Remus stares at the android for a moment and digests the information. After a moment he sighs gently and says “Sirius.”

The android closes his eyes briefly before furrowing his brow and blinking as his pupils refocus to meet Remus’ in cognizant recognition. “Yes?”

“I’m not going to decommission you just because a new model came out.”

Remus could swear a tick of relief twitches across the android’s face at that, but it clears too quickly to tell for sure. “If I need repairs, we can no longer file tickets with PulseCore.”

“People still sell parts for past models, I see S-01 components on the network marketplace at least twice a week. Besides, every tech from here to the edge of the city knows how to service androids just as well as vehicles. You’ll be fine, I won’t let you fall apart,” Remus assures Sirius with a small grin. He takes a sip of caffeine and waits for Sirius to reply, but the android simply looks at him with an orange-y pulse to his processor core. “You alright?”

Sirius draws breath before speaking but cuts himself off, pressing his lips together in vague thought for an extra moment. It’s the most human thing Remus has ever seen him do.

“I believe I’m hesitant to even think of letting somebody besides you open up my circuitry,” Sirius says haltingly, his voice dropping to an almost embarrassed murmur at the tail of the admission. Remus swallows and doesn’t know what to say for a moment.

“Were you—I mean, did PulseCore really program _modesty_ into a pleasure droid?” he asks, trying to keep the incredulity out of his voice lest it offend something inside Sirius. Sirius’ cheeks tint slightly pink and Remus bites down on the impulse to smile like an idiot at such an unexpected reaction in the android.

“I don’t think this is programming,” Sirius mutters. His processor core flickers a peachy color, and Remus wheels himself closer around the curve of the kitchen table and watches Sirius patiently until its color returns to a healthier pale pink. “It seems I’ve adapted to be very...protective of my body, across the duration of our time together. I would feel exposed, perhaps violated, to have somebody else open up my hardware and—you know.”

Sirius wiggles his fingers together vaguely before dropping them into this lap in a self-conscious clasp, and Remus presses the heft of his willpower into successfully not bursting with aimless giddiness at the irony and the surprisingly adorable reaction. He supposes it would be the same as having somebody probe around inside of his body while he was forced to watch—stasis or not, Remus knows there isn’t anaesthetic for androids.

“Hey,” Remus says gently as he takes Sirius’ left hand and presses it to his own cheek. He watches intently as Sirius’ processor slowly fades back down to gentle fuschia, and he smiles with careful softness when the android meets his eyes again. “We’ll figure it out from here, yeah? I’m sure there are tutorials all over the network. ‘How to replace my S-04’s leg socket,’ stuff like that. Most people don’t have the patience or the money to send units all the way back to PulseCorse, you know that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Sirius replies with a little nod.

“Besides, fixing you can’t be very much different from tuning lightbike circuitry.” Remus finds that he’s assuring both himself and the android with that statement, but it works as well as it has to in the moment.

“I would appreciate that,” Sirius says, his eyes finally brightening back up a little and his processor core returning to its solid pink glow. Remus kisses his palm and let’s the android have his hand back, turning to wheel back over to his plate.

“Anything for you,” he parrots back at Sirius, the significance of his own words thrown back at him most likely not lost on the android. He diverts his attention wholeheartedly back to his food and tries not to dwell on the pleasant smolder of ardor deep in his stomach. It doesn’t work very well. Sirius beams at him from across the table, comfortable again, back to his reading as though it hadn’t been interrupted in the first place. The rain continues to smatter the window with it’s rhythmic hissing, very near to the ebb and flow rooted in Remus’ guts that repeats _I love you, I love you, I fucking love you._

Remus tightens his grip on his fork and envies, not for the first time, the android’s freedom from a screaming and stubborn subconscious.

—

Sirius’ first repair rears up three weeks later.

“Harder, _harder_ —oh, like that, _oh_ ,” Remus gasps, on his back with his face pressed sideways into the mattress as Sirius fucks him speechless. Pleasure bursts in spots behind Remus’ eyes, flooding him like a gout of grease fire, coiling him up in knots that threaten explosion at any second as Sirius’ cock hits home on his prostate over and over again.

“You sound so sweet when you beg for it,” Sirius growls as he continues to thrust deep into Remus, kneeling atop the sheets with Remus’ hips gripped in white-knuckled hands to handle his body in whichever way the android sees fit.

“Please, Sirius, fuck me harder, I’m so close—!” Remus’ breath shears around a violent inhale when Sirius hones the angle of his cock even more sharply, the incessant rub and press of it going straight to the weakening levee of Remus’ resolve. Remus feels the thread of his resistance snap noiselessly, with a massive tremor in his insides that makes him ball his fists around the sheets beneath them and would have curled his toes had he control of anything below his knees.

Remus comes with a long groan, spilling chaotically across his stomach and up to his chest with the slight upside-down angle of his body, his flushed cock bouncing where it stands as Sirius fucks him through the current of climax. Sirius makes a small sound of insistence low in his chest, the burning silver of his eyes drilling straight into Remus’ dark green as Remus floats awash in pure sensation.

“Do you want me to finish?” he asks. His voice is high in his throat, and even through the tingling rush of post-completion hypersensitivity, Remus can see how intently his processing needs the leave to come. Petulance flutters in him brightly.

“Eventually,” Remus replies. He clenches his jaw at the flicker and twitch of intense refocusing that sparks through the android’s pupils at that, and he can’t help but let a small sound escape him as Sirius changes up his grip to press Remus’ hips into the mattress and slow his motions to slow, shallow thrusts instead. Even spent it still feels so fucking good, everything Sirius does to him always feels _so fucking good_.

“That’s a very loose definition,” Sirius hisses.

“Eventually,” Remus says again. Sirius takes Remus’ cock in one hand, rubbing low at its base where Remus has made it exceedingly known is an effective touch, and raises an eyebrow.

“Are you challenging a pleasure unit to an endurance test?” he asks, tinged with a disbelieving laugh that his processor core flashes along to in a dark garnet purple. He sweeps a thumb across the hot crown of Remus’ reddened head and _Damn it all, he’s consistent,_ Remus feels the exhausting tingle of it coming to life again.

“Perhaps,” he manages to say, doing his best to mimic Sirius’ expression from underneath the android at the mercy of his hard, twitching piece still inside of him. Sirius leans in to press a deep and sloppy kiss to Remus’ lips, waking ever more corners of the burnt-out arousal inside of him with a sweep of the android’s tongue along his own and a particularly indolent twist of his palm.

“Best of luck,” Sirius murmurs a hair’s breadth away from Remus’ mouth, right before he begins fucking Remus in full earnest once more.

It’s only another couple of minutes before Remus is ridiculously hard again, babbling and begging for more of Sirius at every curve. The android’s internal fans are humming at higher frequencies than Remus has ever heard them before, a-whine like muted jet engines, coolant high and dark red beneath the key surfaces of Sirius’ skin in his cheeks and along his collarbones, never able to sweat but it’s clear the android is trembling with need as he slides a shaking hand up Remus’ stomach and chest to cup his jaw and slip a thumb into Remus’ eager mouth.

“Say it,” Sirius demands. A starved look has overtaken the android, the thin aperture of white light like a reflected circle at the back of each pupil flaring madly. Remus can hardly reply for the ramping ache of a second orgasm feeding itself hungrily at his core, but he sucks messily on Sirius’ proffered thumb and shakes his head against the mussed sheets.

“‘M gonna come again,” Remus pants, all thoughts scrimmed to fog with the impulse to stoke the building fire in his belly. Sirius increases the speed of his strokes on Remus’ cock and times the push of his hips with it perfectly.

“Let me come with you,” Sirius says, pleads, searching Remus’ eyes with the core function to give, receive, drown in pleasure alongside his human. The spark of the thought makes Remus feel suddenly very powerful, and goes straight to his groin.

“Fine, yes, time—time it to mine, I’m almost there again, _oh fuck, just like that.”_ Remus dissolves into a moan as Sirius presses along with that perfect tandem hit of feeling, inside and out, making Remus forget there was ever anything to do in this world besides see the bursting color in the backs of his eyelids, feel the heavy and wonderful presence of the android with him, _I love you, I love you_ —

Remus clamps a hand over his mouth as he slams into his peak once more, refusing to bring those words to life and trapping the beatific shout that would have accompanied them behind the skin of his palm as his limits burst and he comes for the second time. Sirius’ hips quiver against him as the android responds with his own soft cry and spills deep into Remus, several pulses that only amplify Remus crest and keep him from coming down from it for just a couple more seconds, and the android leans forward to prop himself up against the wall with one arm, curving slightly overtop of Remus to—

A metallic _clik_ and the sound of a servo stuttering followed immediately by a small fan grinding to a sudden halt yanks Remus out of his bliss.

“What was that?” Remus pants, still propped partway upside down with his hips aloft in one of Sirius’ hands and semen spangled across his skin.

“I—it seems I’ve caused an impact fracture on my right elbow socket,” Sirius announces, staring at his arm as though the limb had just spoken to him in French.

“A _what?”_

“I moved to support myself on the wall as my system was overcome with orgasm,” Sirius explains as his breathing rate immediately centers itself even though the pink strands of coolant burn-in across his chest remain. “I must have braced at the wrong angle. It would be like you spraining the joint if you’d done the same thing.”

“Can you still move your arm?” Remus asks quickly. He doesn’t move from his place yet, intent on assessing what’s just happened and hoping that none of Sirius’ other limbs have been ruined by their very active session. Sirius rolls his right shoulder just fine and raises it with his upper arm, but the android’s expression stutters like the flicker of a faulty LCD screen when he tries to flex his hand and only one finger twitches.

“It’s stunted all movement below my forearm.”

“Fuck. Here, let—help me up, please.”

Remus slides himself down from his tilt on Sirius’ thighs, sighing inwardly with residual arousal as Sirius pulls out of him slowly to clean him perfunctorily with a cloth folded on the bedside table and allow for Remus to shift into sit on the edge of the bed.

“Search the network and find the part you’ll need, please,” Remus requests as he takes Sirius’ arm gently to look at the crushed joint. Nothing on the surface of the limb looks amiss, but an orange warning light beneath the android’s skin pulses a slow alert at the inside of Sirius’ elbow. Remus swears to himself under his breath.

“S-04 component RA-E-18p. There’s a set of two with the LA-E-18o for my other side for 360 credits on the marketplace,” Sirius says after a second-and-a-half of searching his internal connection.

“What’s the order code?”

“17854xb12.”

“Merlin,” Remus calls out to the home system, “place one order on 1785…” he glances up at Sirius and the android joins along with him to finish the string; “...4xb12.”

_“State your security PIN, please.”_

“RJL60.”

The home system chimes the affirmative. _“Order 17854xb12 for one set of PulseCore S-04 lower arm joint component package, RA-E18p and LA-E-18o, placed for delivery in one business day.”_

“Will you be alright to wait a day for the part?” Remus asks, looking up at Sirius along the length of his arm. He discovers he’s unconsciously making comforting little circles on the inside of Sirius’ injured wrist, which the android might very well have trouble feeling with the damage. Remus doesn’t stop.

“I’ll have to, won’t I?” Sirius replies, not forlorn but instead with tint of optimistic charm. Remus reaches up and tugs him forward by the back of his neck, a gentle kiss finding its way up between the two of them.

“We’ll get you fixed up.”

—

Up early the following morning, Remus spends the day doing his best to brush up on several years of electrical engineering knowledge that he hopes haven’t vacated his mind since his accident ruined the topography of his memory. He bookmarks tens of PulseCore hardware manuals, finds video tutorials with both plain circuitry and a full android used as examples, and brushes up on old basics when he runs into terminology he can’t quite recall—luckily, he has to rely less and less on searching concepts as the afternoon goes on.

A delivery droid requests entry to the apartment just after 1500 hours, and Remus wheels the compact little package over to the kitchen table after giving his thumbprint ID to accept it.

“Sirius, your parts are here,” Remus calls down the tiny hallway to the washroom. Sirius emerges with a pile of clean clothes that he’s obviously folded with one arm and sets it on the sofa before sitting down across from Remus in the kitchen, his eyes flickering across every inch of the packaging Remus is tidily opening up. His damaged arm is propped up in a makeshift sling made from an old sweatshirt.

“Do you need any assistance?” Sirius asks. Remus grunts a negative as he glances at the titles of the little plastic bags, drawing them out and sets the LA component off to the side. He tears the top of the RA component open with his teeth along a perforation and snorts to himself when he tips the contents out into his hand.

“All this for a little gear,” Remus teases lightly, turning the piece of titanium around between his fingers as he squints at it. “Could you get my tools from the bookshelf?”

Sirius stands again and retrieves the long-unused pouch of tune-up and circuitry tools from its place on the bookshelf and unzips it for Remus on the kitchen table while Remus pulls up the most descriptive video he was able to find and a detailed S-04 manual in two separate browser tabs on his tablet. Sirius sits across from him again and unwinds the sling, pillowing it in his lap while he awaits instructions.

“Alright,” Remus sighs, raising his eyebrows once in anticipatory emphasis—he would be lying if he didn’t admit to himself that he’s excited to see how this will go, a minor test of skills he hasn’t taken pains to flex in a long time. “Roll up your sleeve, please, and rest it here in front of me on the table.”

Sirius obeys him and glances at the tools, with a twitch of wariness that Remus notices like a scent. “May I go into stasis while you work?” Sirius asks, urgency bubbling along beneath his words. If it didn’t concern him slightly see Sirius’ afraid of something, Remus would be enchanted by the show of fear in an android.

“Of course, but I just need your help exposing the joint first,” Remus says gently. He consults the manual briefly and traces a small pattern on the inside of Sirius’ elbow where the warning light still blinks through with a soft bloom. “Right here. Could you pull back your skin for me?”

Sirius nods and Remus watches in rapt fascination as the android presses two fingers to his arm and, twisting and pressing them slowly before pinching at the gathering skin beneath it, releases a seam with a nearly-inaudible hiss to pull away the pale flesh and bare about five inches of Sirius’ internal workings. Remus stares in wonder at the fresh valley of metal bones and silicon sinew, perfectly matching those of a human, with veins carrying bright pink coolant and tiny fans and servos humming along to keep the processors running.

“Wow,” Remus breathes, staring openly for several more seconds.

“I would like to go into stasis now,” Sirius repeats. Remus blinks and looks up at the android, slightly confused to see him so bothered, but he nods.

“If I need to ask you something, h—”

“Just say my name to wake me,” the android says quickly, and just like that his eyes are closed and he drops into sleep mode. Remus looks down at his opened arm again, and it’s both amazing and slightly disconcerting to see the processes within slow to about half speed as the system suspends itself. Doing his best to dispel the twinge of worry in his guts, Remus takes up his pair of pliers and sets to work.

It’s easy enough to get the crushed component unlatched and pulled slowly out of Sirius’ arm, like extracting a piece of gravel stuck in a cycle spoke. Remus examines the dented piece in the pale low afternoon light, its cylinder pressed in half like a small aluminum can, and Remus shivers slightly to himself to think of how much force was necessary to do this to the piece. He glances at the placidity of Sirius’ expression before looking back down at the intricacy of the android’s arm.

After reading for a third time through the six RA-E-18p replacement steps from one of the more reputable third-party repair site he found on the network earlier—just be triply sure he knows what he’s doing—Remus is briefly distracted by a comment feed on the forum that continues below the article:

****_v My s04 cracked this piece once and the repair house i took it to told us about sensory settings that can be adjusted to make repairs feel REALLY GOOD for these bots instead of their hard-coding making them freak out. repairs are way easier now. try it!!!  
_ **_^_ ** hard agree, my droid was super anxious about having to replace some coolant hoses last month but our tech helped it adjust its sensory settings and holy shit, it pops a hard one every time we even pass by the repair house without going in lol  
**_^_ ** mine came like 4 times when it had a leg completely replaced last year, so hot. new fetish  
**_^_ ** _there’s repair porn out there, you all know this, right?  
_ ****_^_ wtf give us the link op

Remus closes the thread with a quick swipe and a thrum in his ribs, vague and sudden but definitely stemming from his inclination toward sex with a heavy element of control to it. He looks at Sirius’ placid expression, completely neutral serenity—’hard coding,’ the thread had mentioned. Perhaps, Remus thinks, those sensory settings might help the same way Sirius’ pleasure drive has helped Remus stay away from opiates? He tries to ignore the small part of his mind that stays fixated on the purely selfish aspect of it. He takes up the pliers again and zeroes in on the hardware.

It takes the better part of half an hour, but after several strings of muttered swearing to himself and one or two close calls almost nicking his fingertips on the hardware surrounding the gear input, Remus finally slots the new part into its latch with a click. “Fuck yeah!” he announces to himself, accomplishment moving through him warmly alongside furious adrenaline with a familiar _Fuck you, reality, I just Did That_ he hasn’t felt since the last time he was on a lightbike. It feels fantastic.

The little perpetual motion charger unit inside the new component starts whirring along quietly in its place, but Remus still wants to make sure it functions properly before closing up the skin. “Sirius.”

The android’s core fans hum back up to their normal barely-there drone, and Sirius blinks a couple times as he returns to waking. “Is everything settled?”

“All it needs is a test and then we’re set. Can you flex your hand?”

To Remus’ mix of relief and pride, Sirius opens and closes his fist with the ease of never having injured the arm in the first place. Remus notices the android’s processor fade briefly into a sharp dark pink as he watches his own movement.

“There. Relieved?” Remus asks him carefully. Sirius sighs— _feigns_ a sigh, a perfectly-timed idle function, a shrug of his shoulders that makes Remus’ heart seize with the need to tell this paragon of engineering how dear his is; _I love you, I fucking completely adore you._ It’s madness.

Sirius expeditiously replaces the skin on his arm and the seam reseals itself to disappear back into the microscopic web of the android’s false epidermis. “Thank you,” Sirius replies with a single dip of a nod, meeting Remus eyes with a genial smile and a flicker in his eyes that doesn’t quite reach the backs of his pupils. Remus brushes aside a pair of screwdrivers and takes Sirius’ hand.

“I’m sorry if that was uncomfortable. Does stasis at least keep you from feeling anything?” Remus holds his breath unconsciously, and he lets it out in a tremulous piston when Sirius shakes his head. He isn’t surprised in the slightest that he’s affected by Sirius’ discomfort, but he’s taken by the depth with which he feels it. “Damn it. Sorry.”

“No, no. I believe it’s a product of functioning sensation in general—PulseCore wouldn’t be able to engineer any of us to feel pleasure in the first place were it not based at least partially in pain. And it isn’t like we can ignore broken parts, right?”

Remus swallows and nods absently as Sirius strokes the back of his hand. It’s the first time he’s ever heard Sirius reason with himself, at least aloud. It’s jarring.

“Right. Um. Speaking of sensation, I read a thread on one of the repair sites. Something about sensory settings for S-04s,” Remus stammers. He looks down at his knees and dwells for a moment on the wholly pleasant frequency ringing in his heart that quivers to life with the warm and calming press of Sirius’ fingers against his own. “It can make repairs less uncomfortable for you. Way less.”

“Sensory settings can be accessed through an option menu stored in a warm boot of my system,” Sirius says, frowning slightly. “According to my internal systems, you’ll have to run an update cycle on me before a repair in order to execute any changes.”

“Ah, forget it then, I don’t want to—”

_“But,”_ Sirius interrupts Remus with a soft grab of his hand, staying him from haphazardly tossing the tools on the table back into their bag to avoid the rest of his hapless thoughts. Remus looks up at the android and sees a measure of comfort returned to his gaze, stasis sloughed off to be replaced by that wonderful waking of consciousness that _must_ be buried in there somewhere, a marvel of reality, an impossibility so near to life that it may as well just be as such. “But,” Sirius repeats more gently, “if it’s something that would intrigue you, and would make repairing me less...stressful, for the both of us, then perhaps we should try it next time I need it.”

Remus wants to argue with him, insist that any sort of stress to the android’s systems is last thing Remus even wants to think about after growing so close to him over the last half year and then some—but he swallows the novel of an admission and settles for simply leaning in to kiss Sirius’ repaired forearm. He hopes, naively and yet with certain smoldering ferocity, that his lips might somehow be more eloquent against the warm result of binary than his feeble words could ever.

“I’ll look into it then,” he promises the android, “make sure I don’t accidentally paperweight you in the process, yeah?”

Sirius chuckles as he stands up and kisses Remus on the forehead before returning to the laundry. “Thank you again,” the android says over his shoulder, hefting the clothes with both arms now.

“Any time,” Remus replies. While he replaces the tools, one by one and more methodically than he would have normally, he tries not to hang onto the prickle of fear that even joking about losing Sirius spangles through his veins.

Remus Lupin is officially and hopelessly in love, and it feels for certain that he’s royally fucked for it.

—

Over the next two weeks, Remus does some surface-level searching for more information on S-04 sensory settings. It pulls up lots of esoteric and jargon-heavy texts and studies direct from PulseCore materials that Remus downloads in bulk, several branches of articles from anti-android rags that Remus rolls his eyes at, and more than a few videos from sites like ServoFucker and Bloom.io that Remus bookmarks with a slight curl at the pit of his stomach. He determines with the layman’s research that while yes, a warm boot is a bit involved, it would still end up being a better option for Sirius’ program than the stress of plain stasis in the long run.

One series of Bloom videos, simply titled “Repairs_01” and upward through “_26,” lights Remus’ fancy with shocking acuity. Each one opens with the plain black title card of _Repairs - Sensory Setting Override in S-04 Pleasure Units_ before fading into the static frame shot of a very well-organized tech station, where a different android each time with a dazed-looking expression of contentment sits in a large high-backed chair. From there, starting with the removal or opening up of the damaged body part, the impact of the sensory readjustment shows itself in full earnest from the outset. Every touch from the tech—their face blurred as they work with expert precision—coaxes shudders and groans and begs for more from the S-04s, building over and over again in what is more often than not a long series of several shaking, luxurious climaxes before the repair job is complete. Remus finds himself rapt and sharply aroused by the thought of Sirius made so vulnerable, so excitable, so _hungry—_

The front door slides open to bring Sirius beelining through it, all purpose with the bundle of Remus’ dinner from down on the corner tucked safe under his arm from the rain that dots his shoulders. Remus quickly swipes the Bloom.io window away and squirms to conceal the slight hardness in his lap, and he only notices Sirius’ uneven gait when the android slows down to shrug off his jacket.

“Oh shit, are you alright?” Remus asks. He wheels over to the android and takes the food from him, watching the movement of his body closely for any tell of what’s causing the stuttering limp. He flushes with minor panic for thoughts of bigots that have been known to take crowbars and other crude weaponry to droids in public spaces, but Sirius nods with a tired tightness in his face that at least belies general calm.

“I was crossing the street when burncyclist ran their crossing cue and almost hit me. I jumped back to the curb but landed poorly, which wrenched my left leg,” Sirius explains. He flexes his left foot in example and produces an uncomfortable-sounding muffled grinding through his entire lower leg. Remus frowns at the noise.

“What does your diagnostic say, is anything broken?”

“No, my anterior upper femoral hinge is has only been displaced. Nothing ruptured. It just needs realignment.”

Remus’ throat tightens slightly with anticipation as he unintentionally recalls a flash of one of the _Repairs_ videos in which a lithe blonde android was reduced to an arching, mewling wreck of beauty as the tech tuned an open circuit in the android’s upper arm. _Fuck._ Remus hadn’t realized how quickly he would get attached to the notion of turning the hold of sexual control upside down between him and Sirius, but now the thought makes his insides smolder sweetly.

“Do you want to try the sensory override then?” Remus asks, and damn it all if his voice doesn’t come out constricted—exactly the same way as when he’s trying to play off his level of arousal when Sirius teases him along spontaneously.

Sirius looks down at him with a small smile and a processor pulse of brief deep red. Of fucking course he can read Remus’ internal signals. “If you want to, yes. But eat first, you shouldn’t let the food go cold.”

Remus feels his face go hot with a violent blush, the easy trust in Sirius’ voice almost beckoning that nuclear admission up from Remus’ depths.

_I love you._

It’s a close call, almost opening his mouth to draw the breath to say it, but Remus keeps it down. Barely. Wheeling into the kitchen without another word, he concentrates on the smell of broth and hot noodles to shut up his heart for at least a bit longer.

Sirius stretches himself out along the sofa while Remus tucks into the food, trying and largely failing not to glance up at the android too often from across the small gap between the sitting room and the kitchen. Sirius has his eyes closed, not in stasis but certainly not attentive, and Remus nearly burns the roof of his mouth twice when he forgets to blow on a spoonful before sipping on it because of the arresting allure of the view. Sirius is an impossibility of ease and function, a flawless construction of software that makes the semblance of true awareness seem as natural as producing an earnest smile.

_Whatever goes on in those processor cores, it sure fucking feels like conscious thought from here._

Remus sips the last of the broth from the plastic carryout bowl before wiping his sleeve across his mouth. “Set?” he asks simply into the sitting room, wheeling over to the bookshelf to retrieve his tools as he hears Sirius sit up on the couch.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Sirius replies. Remus bites down on a ringing sensation somewhere deep below his back molars, and he locks his chair brakes across from the android facing him on the sofa.

“Could you pass me the tablet? I’ve got all your manuals saved for reference.”

Sirius hands him the tablet from the cushion beside him, and he catches Remus’ wrist before he can draw it back. Remus looks up at him, searching mutely. “You’re nervous,” Sirius says gently.

“I’m—" Remus begins to protest and means to say _Not,_ but his guts have a different idea of how they want to steer the conversation. “—nervous, yes, fine observation,” he growls. “We don’t have to do the sensory changes if you don’t want to.”

“Are you apprehensive because it’s a boot option instead of an application menu?”

“No, it—I don’t want you to feel...coerced, I guess, I don’t know.” Remus chews his bottom lip in preoccupation as he rushes his words. “It seems like this sort of thing is a little dubious, in terms of what _you_ want.”

“I’m an S-04 PulseCore android engineered for pleasure and comfort,” Sirius murmurs by rote. He tips Remus face up to meet his eyes and raises an eyebrow—just a hair, just enough. “What I ‘want’ is for you to be satisfied.”

Remus hears the emphasis Sirius puts on _want,_ a falsifying of the word as though the android doesn’t believe himself capable of choice. It’s contrary to almost everything Remus has watched him do or heard him say over the last eight months of adaptation to living with Remus. It feels almost offensive, but Remus doesn’t feel like arguing the point right now. He nods wordlessly and accepts the kiss that Sirius presses to his lips with the perfect mix of reassurance and sensuality.

Remus pulls open the warm boot process manual, a function he’s learned is embedded specifically for repair techs to re-tune certain options. _Or make their jobs a bit more interesting._ He licks his lips with one last nervous tic before getting down to business.

“Are you in a comfortable upright position?” He asks Sirius, reading from the details of the first step listed on the tablet screen. The android shifts slightly in his seat before nodding. “Alright, good. Sirius, access boot protocol twelve-sixty-six.”

Sirius’ posture twitches slightly into a stiffer seat, his back ramrod straight and his arms locked in his lap. He stares unseeing at the back wall of the apartment as his pupil apertures slowly wheel open and lock into their widest opening. “Protocol twelve-seventy-six running,” he announces, his mouth moving while the rest of his face is eerily still. One of the fans in his chest whirs slightly faster for a second before calming back down. “Process complete with exit status zero errors,” he says after another moment. “Awaiting command line.”

Remus glances down at the tablet and swipes down to the next step, a series of commands to reach the sensory override menu. “Access R-drive.”

“R-drive accessed.”

“Input library executable six-two-five.”

“Working...library functions available.”

Remus glances up at Sirius, his idle movement completely stilled in the suspension of the boot process. It’s very strange to see him not breathing. Remus flexes his jaw and looks back down to the next several steps.

“Select folder ‘Cache.’”

“Folder open.”

“Navigate to subfolder structure Engine\Content\Functions.”

“Working...folder open.”

“Access asset Sensory.lum.”

“Asset opened. Run program Sensory Override Menu?”

Remus swallows around a slight dryness in his mouth. “Yes.”

“Accessing menu...attach S-04 unit via coaxial to a transport now, or say ‘Continue’ to proceed with voice commands.”

“Continue.”

Sirius’ eyelids flutter shut for a moment and another one of his internal fans kicks into faster rotation for several seconds. He opens his eyes again to continue staring forward, his body still frozen like marble. “Lumos PulseCore S-04 Sensory Override is a protected library application. If you proceed to make changes to this asset, it will void your warranty with Lumos PulseCore central offices and prohibit future requests for repairs or replacement. Do you still wish to continue?”

Remus snorts. _Way ahead of yourself there, Lumos._ “Yes.”

The same stock confirmation chime as the Merlin system emits from somewhere in Sirius’ chest, and Remus can’t help a surprised jag of laughter at the incongruity of the sound coming from somebody for whom he has ample evidence is very much not a Merlin device. “Sensory Override Menu accessed,” Sirius says with that shelf-brand pleasantness, still his voice but quite far from the wonderfully laidback cadence he’s adopted over the last several months. “Awaiting selection request.”

Remus scrolls down to the part of the instructions in which the author has listed a set of branching commands to tune the android’s sensory input to varying degrees—titled from “Basic Alleviation” to “Lightest Touch Triggers Orgasm.” Remus takes a moment to try and find something in the middle, something that will make him feel like less of a dog for dwelling on the most extreme option for more than a few seconds. One of the branches labeled “All Interior Layers Are Erogenous” looks promising enough, so Remus taps on it see the few steps left to achieve it. He swallows around a small ball of nerves and shifts slightly in his seat before looking back up Sirius.

“Open variation settings for input response module five,” Remus says, scanning the subtitle for “Input Response” to see that it controls the degree to which outside stimulus affects the android.

“Module five variation settings: currently set to the degree of two. If you would like to change this value, please enter the new value now.”

“Set module five to the degree of eight,” Remus reads from the tablet.

“Confirmed.”

“Open output response module two.”

“Module two variation settings: currently set to the degree of six. If you would like to change this value, please enter the new value now.”

Remus raises his eyebrows to himself to see that this value, loosely defined by the site as _Physical android response to sensual touch_ , is already almost to where the change needs it. _Must be your fucking penchant for cum fountains_. “Set module two to the degree of seven.”

“Confirmed.”

Two more modules remain to adjust—they seem to be communiques between the sensory settings and the main processors, so the arbitrary grades of them are slightly lost on Remus. He sets them to where they need to be, directs Sirius’ system back out of the override menu, and feels excitement pushing insistently at him when he reaches the final command line before the warm boot cycle completes to wake Sirius back up.

“Boot protocol twelve-sixty-six complete. Bring personality systems and full S-04 function back online?”

An eager pulse canters along Remus’ veins, high and hot, as he nods. “Yes.”

Sirius’ eyes shut softly and his processor core is the first thing to change. It fades into a deep amethyst hue, the darkest shade on the gradient it’s ever been, and glows with an intensity Remus has only seen a few times before in their most athletic rounds of fucking. Sirius’ chest expands beneath it with a deep inhale, making the core glow a bit brighter beneath the cover of Sirius’ shirt, and his eyes open to fix Remus with a wide gaze. “Hello,” he says simply, slightly breathless, as if coming out of a deep sleep filled with very pleasant dreams.

“Are you all there?” Remus asks with the chance of a half-smile. His heart starts to hammer in earnest as he watched Sirius blink to himself a few times, a soft flush rising in his cheeks, reaching up to touch lightly at his processor core.

“Yes,” he replies, still sounded a bit dazed. “It—I feel different.”

“Bad-different? If you don’t like it, I can reset it,” Remus says quickly. His blunt nails bite into his palms as he subtly clenches his fists with nervous energy, and Sirius looks up at him quickly with a pink fade saturating the light behind his pupils.

“No,” he blurts, his simulated breathing coming slightly quicker and just a bit shallow. “No, it’s not bad.”

“How does it feel?” Remus asks carefully. He licks his lips with another vent of minor anxiety, and he watches Sirius track the tip of his tongue like a hawk and sees the flush on the android’s face deepens slightly. Heat begins to pool lovely and low in Remus’ pelvis at the sight.

“I—it—” Sirius stammers slightly as he shifts a bit in his place, squirming against the couch cushions as though feeling the surface of them for the first time. “It’s as though my entire body is...alight, I can feel everything. Every movement of my motion chargers, every transistor cluster, all the coolant veins, it— _ah._ Not bad. Different.”

Remus takes an extra couple of seconds to find his voice, struck dumb by the sight of the android unwinding ever so slightly before him. So often Remus is the one sliding to luxurious pieces by Sirius’ controlled hand; the reality of this shift goes straight to his cock, and he fights for control over his own faculties as he reaches for his tools.

“Good. But let me know if it does get uncomfortable, yeah? We can switch it right back.” Remus ignores the shrieking in his guts that wills him to keep this setting on forever, if this is how Sirius looks at the _beginning_ of the process.

“Yeah,” Sirius parrots back, settling into a sit with his arms by his sides and his legs slightly spread.

“I’ll need you to take off your slacks, so I can get to your leg,” Remus says with an aimless little gesture to his own shorts. Sirius obeys immediately, untying the waistband and sliding them down to discard them on the floor in one smooth gesture, looking relieved to be rid of them. Remus’ eyes linger on bulge in the android’s undershorts, more than slightly eager to see how the settings might develop in terms of Sirius’ full-on arousal as he repairs the wrenched joint. Sirius shifts a bit more when he leans back into his sit, furrowing his brow as his skin meets the sofa. Remus stares in abject appreciation.

“I’ll see to the epidermis again,” Sirius says, a bit too loud with a touch of awkwardness, as though his voice surprises him slightly. He pulls at the flesh on his left thigh the same way he did for the arm repair, twisting it gently until a large oval swath of it lifts away with a tiny hiss. He lays the wafer-thin panel open to the side, its hinge invisible against the knit of the surrounding flesh, to bare another complex network of metalwork and thin, vibrant coolant hoses weaving in and around one another.

“Ah, there it is then,” Remus exclaims, nodding at a folding muscular mechanism just off-kilter enough to look wrong to even Remus’ relatively layman eye. Without thinking, he leans forward to touch it gently.

At that, Sirius makes the most unintentionally erotic sound Remus has ever heard in his life.

It’s a gasp of surprise that evolves into something entirely new halfway through itself, taking on a hitch of pure approval when Remus’ fingers touch the body-warm smoothness of the tweaked joint. Sirius’ voice trips then into a feather-light voiced groan made of encouragement and indulgence, and Remus feels himself swell immediately to more than half-hard as he absorbs the sound and bakes it permanently into his memory. It takes a moment before either of them speak, Remus’ fingers stilled on the exposed muscle fiber.

“Good?” Remus breathes.

_“Yes,”_ Sirius replies immediately, his tone striped with need. Remus nods to himself absently and retrieves his pair of pliers from the tool case—he tries not to let his brain riot out of skull for how absolutely fuck-starved Sirius sounds holding in a whimper at the removal of his touch.

“I think this should be fairly easy to realign,” Remus explains, fighting to keep an eager tremor out of his voice and only succeeding halfway, “but let me know if you feel anything wrong, alright?” Sirius groans a light affirmative, his processor core pulsing richly, as Remus thumbs with slightly trembling hands through the tablet windows for an S-04 femoral structure diagram. _N-joint, attaches the A and B connectors to the greater motor functions of the leg (fig. 3)._ Remus glances between the diagram and Sirius’ opened machinery, spending a moment with each pass lingering on the very visible shape of the android’s slowly hardening length in his undershorts. _Fucking hell._ This is either the best or the most irresponsible decision Remus has made in a very long time. Perhaps both at once.

Remus steels himself for another painfully alluring sound from Sirius again as he leans forward to examine the backlit reddish glow of the android’s leg network, but it does little to stay the inner heat it brings with it. Remus gently parts a stretch of coolant veins to see more of the joint beneath them, and Sirius lets out a stuttering rush of air as though Remus had just taken hold of his cock.

“Do that again,” Sirius breathes. Remus feels his face flush and looks up briefly to meet Sirius’ eyes—bright pink aperture lights at the back of wide, wide pupils ringed with the thinnest silver of silver irises flashing with calculated want; _Fuck,_ Remus wants to forget the repair and have him right here, but hell and flood there’s work to be done.

“I’ll repair you first and then we can explore,” Remus rasps. Sirius’ throat flexes as he swallows, nodding shortly, pressing knuckle against his teeth in what looks to be the sweetest agony when Remus touches along an exposed gap in the joint.

“Fine,” Sirius agrees with a strain, and Remus can’t stay from drinking in the sight of Sirius’ cock almost fully hard and sticking out through the leg of his undershorts. Remus moves the bent joint slightly to test its range of movement, watching hungrily as the impressive length twitches deeply with the touch.

“Fuck,” Remus whispers halfway to himself.

“It feels so good, Remus, whatever these override settings are I _like_ them,” Sirius sighs. He thrusts his hips up shallowly but with enough of an arch to work his frenulum against the press of his shorts, and Remus aches with appreciative lust as he tries to cordon off his thought processes to see to the repair first. _You said it yourself, fix it first and_ then _you can fuck, you useless kink-hound._

“I—let me know if I do anything that hurts,” Remus repeats vaguely, a verbal equivalent of flailing for purchase and both he and Sirius know it; Sirius outright laughs at it with breathless humor, head thrown back slightly.

“Anything you do to me in this state will be far from ‘hurt,’ Remus,” he says on a trembling sigh.

And there it is, the latch blown off the lid of Remus’ resolve like a bullet to a padlock. He grinds his teeth with punishing force to hold back a wave of want, but he can’t help but curl two curious fingers into the bundle of coolant veins again as he gently adjusts the skew of the femur joint with the pliers in his left hand. Sirius shudders with an encouraging gasp, gripping the couch cushions beneath him with bruising force, and chokes perfectly on a moan.

“So it looks like I’ve got to just reattach the latching mechanism to the B connector,” Remus thinks aloud, anything to distract his basal instincts that are currently screaming at him to abandon the repair and finger-fuck Sirius’ circuitry for the rest of the evening. “Nothing snapped, your diagnostic was right. It just came unlatched.”

“Do it slowly, make it last,” Sirius insists. His pupils flicker when he meets Remus’ eyes. “Please,” he ammends, his voice airy.

“I’ll try,” Remus murmurs in reply. He closes both his knees, unfeeling but stabilizing, around Sirius left kneecap in its bend against the sofa to get to earnest work. Looking back and forth between the diagram while also consciously slowing his movements to the tune of Sirius’ encouragement is an Odyssian feat, trying to shut out the sound and feeling of Sirius responding to even the slightest prod to his internal machinery lest Remus accidentally slip and cripple the android’s leg further. Remus moves as slowly as he can, purposeful touches and gentle moving-aside of all Sirius’ other femoral parts, while Sirius responds as though Remus has his fingers inside one of the parts of him actually engineered for sexual feedback instead of his leg.

Remus has to try at the hinge latch several times with the nose of the pliers before he can pry its mechanism back open with a soft click, which is apparently the most satisfying feeling he’s caused so far as Sirius lets out a weakened cry and cants his hips slightly. The android’s cock is at full attention out through the skewed leg of his undershorts now, almost touching his stomach with the reach of its slightly-pulsing stiffness as it already beads a steady well of pre-ejaculate at its head. Remus breathes sharply through his nose and tries not to lose focus.

“Remus,” Sirius asks with the sort of tone that clearly means for itself to be an interrogative but falls short for the work-up of the rest of his body.

“Sirius?” Remus replies simply, still focused on the repair but slightly hoarse with a dry throat as he feels his own hardness respond with a twitch to the desperation scraping up through Sirius’ vocal components. He takes hold of the unhooked hinge piece with careful fingers and bites down hard on his lip, closing his eyes in a brief bid for internal respite when Sirius moans gingerly.

“I want to come, I ha—I need to,” Sirius admits on heavy breath. “Every internal shift goes straight to my pleasure response, if I can’t spend I might overheat.”

Remus looks up at the android, skin flushed from the collar of shirt with that same purple tint of his processor core up to the high rake of his cheekbones. His artificial breath, matching the pace of his coolant fans now kicked into a steady high drone, draws in desperate panting pulls, and his limbs are trembling ever so slightly with the hum of sweet tension. Remus swallows thickly before nodding. “Alright then, as many times as you need to.”

“Thank you, _oh,_ oh fuck—“ Sirius cuts himself off around an inhale when his abdominals tighten in the perfectly-coded telltale of preparatory release. Remus watches with helpless longing as the android squeezes his eyes shut and drops his mouth open in voiceless rapture, and unconsciously Remus presses a thumb into the soft plush of Sirius’ quadricep fiber. Sirius cries out then with a bright leap of bliss that cleaves itself in two with another raw gasp when his cock twitches and lets fly a jet of ejaculate. Remus watches, selfishly with his fist tightening around the pliers and his right thumb working at Sirius’ muscle fiber in gentle little prods, his own length surging with the view. Sirius drops his head against the sofa back, chest heaving, with his cock still pulsing where it stands and not softening even slightly.

“Still hard?” Remus asks. His voice sounds starved but he can’t find it in him to care as he stares openly, the repair forgotten for the moment.

“Every time my coolant pump beats, it makes my veins flex as though they’re programmed to be fucked,” Sirius explains, still staring up at the ceiling in debauched afterburn. “When you touch any of my internal components, my system reads that as the equivalent of you stroking my cock and massaging my anal cavity at the same time. Yes. I am still hard.”

Remus’ face flushes, the plainness of Sirius’ explanation threading wildly through his sense of arousal to hit home on the deep-rooted part of him that houses his particular affinity for android sex. “You like being overridden this way, don’t you?” he murmurs. He caresses Sirius’ muscle fiber again, warm and long and silken, revelling in the wanton way the android shuts his eyes and bites his lip while he nods in response. Remus’ own cock aches for friction, but he continues to ignore that drive for now. He looks back down at the hinge joint, resituated to line up with its connector again and does his best not to let his vision swim when he briefly consults the diagram on the tablet again.

“Is the repair almost complete?” Sirius asks. He shifts slightly to sit a bit straighter and shudders when the movement makes his leg components flex and release slightly around Remus’ fingers. It’s entirely more arousing than Remus is prepared for it to be, and his nostrils flare as he looks at the mechanical wonder of the android’s bared insides.

“Fucking hell, Sirius,” he murmurs, shifting in his own seat to give the slightest easement to his throbbing cock as it thrums with his heartbeat. “You’re amazing. Almost done, yeah.”

Remus takes up the hinge joint again and readies it alongside the latch. He leans in to get a closer look at the mechanism, and he instinctively presses a kiss to the skin of Sirius’ thigh above the open panel. The android smells of sweet coolant and the light scent of fabric softener.

“What are you doing now? That feels good,” Sirius asks. He buries a hand in Remus’ hair, and it’s all Remus can do to not dissolve from outright pleasure. So rarely does Sirius not immediately know everything going on with his body—it’s as if Remus has effectively fixed a sensory blindfold on him by bumping every feeling up in intensity.

“I’m about to relatch the hinge to your knee connector.” Remus slides his thumb and forefinger along the length of the hinge to repeat the sensation for Sirius, and the android’s fist tightens against his scalp.

“It’s like your touch is everywhere at once, my input log is going haywire,” Sirius marvels.

“What do you think will happen when I reconnect it?” Remus asks, sucking on his lower lip with preoccupied arousal. Sirius huffs a laugh and Remus’ heart swells.

“Eighty percent likelihood I’ll come again.”

“Let’s find out,” Remus breathes, delving his right hand into the bundle of coolant veins once more as he twists the pliers with his left to lock the hinge soundly back into place. Sirius shouts an oath, tugging sharply at Remus’ hair, and Remus can’t hold back his own shorn groan as he curls and uncurls the fingers enveloped in the smooth heat of Sirius’ internal fibers. Sirius’ cock erupts, roping up and over his lap, pouring thick as he rides out the crest of it, bared before Remus like a feast for his senses and making him feel just as overridden as the android unraveling at his touch.

“Flex your foot again, test the hinge,” Remus commands the android, still working his fingers in and around Sirius’ components. Sirius obeys with a shudder and a throaty moan, his foot flexing and pointing back and forth without so much as a stammer from the fresh repair, and his cock lets out another rope of ejaculate. Pride joins the inferno of arousal lighting up Remus’ insides, and sits back slightly with his hands still inside Sirius’ leg. The android is an absolute portrait of everything that Remus could define as appealing—worked up, exhausted, eager, dripping, _still fucking hard._

“Good as new.” Remus’ voice feels separated from himself as he floats in the high of such sharpened want. He meets Sirius’ eyes, clashing steel, white-hot and sparking wildly, and holds the gaze like a twin to the android’s grip on his hair while he abandons caution and slowly eases his entire right hand into the fold of Sirius’ thigh cavity. The trembling ecstasy that takes over Sirius’ expression as Remus watches is enchanting, and Remus wants to stoke it further.

“There, there, _there,_ oh fuck, Remus, yes,” Sirius babbles he pulls back on Remus’ hair as the android’s entire body tightens with encouragement.

_“Easy,”_ Remus yelps, his free hand flying back to touch at Sirius’ clenched fingers when the android stills. He relaxes his hold on Remus and opens his eyes immediately.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks, desperate with an air of confusion as his pupil refocus with harried attention trying to break through his sensory fog.

“No, just surprised me,” Remus assures him with a misty chuckle. “You’ve got a hell of a grip.”

“It’s hard to control my higher faculties when I’m _so fuck—oh_ that feels fantastic—!” Sirius’ words spiral away from him as Remus strokes the underside of his main femur strut. Remus finds it quietly inthralling that the android’s insides aren’t messy or wet with free-running coolant, which had previously been considered a biohazard with PulseCore’s first round of droid units almost a decade ago. Sirius’ internal components are all the same comforting degree of warm, matched to human body temperature and all made of a unique biocomponent the repair tech articles had all called amatoweave. As Sirius’ coolant veins and muscle fibers slide across and between Remus’ fingers, he burns with the desire to drown in Sirius.

_I love you._

Remus shunts the energy that would manifest itself in that outburst by quickly unlocking the brakes of his wheelchair and pushing back slightly from Sirius. He laments the loss of touch inwardly as the android makes it known vocally, his eyes fluttering open to cast out for an answer to the feeling of Remus’ hand leaving his thigh, but Remus is too busy resetting his brakes just several inches back from the couch to meet his eyes.

“All internal components are enhanced, right?” Remus asks as he shimmies himself out of his shorts. Dazed, Sirius cards a strand of dark hair back off his forehead and nods. Remus’s belly sparks like flint, and he hisses as he finally— _finally,_ oh, his own touch is like fucking water in the desert to his body—wraps his hand around his cock, that same hand that had teased Sirius’ insides, and strokes it languidly. He holds Sirius’ gaze, licks his lips with that same nervous habit and adores every moment of the way the android rakes those silver eyes over him body with quiet hunger. “Does your mouth count?”

Sirius’ processor dives into an even richer shade of purple at the suggestion, and without another word he seals his open thigh panel and descends into an eager sit before Remus’ chair. His cock is still wet with the prior climaxes and beading incessantly with the promise of more, and Remus steals a moment to blindly thank whatever higher power allowed him to be born into an era where he can have someone across from him who caters so wholly to every single one of his turn-ons. A bespoke companion, granted by the faceless gods of Lumos, powered by fusion and Remus Lupin’s own stubbornness.

“Let’s find out,” the android murmurs. He settles onto his knees and kisses the seam of Remus’ biomechanics, a kiss Remus can’t feel on the surface but from which he tracks the warm intent deep down his bones. He combs his fingers into Sirius’ long falls of hair, strokes one of the android’s rich dark eyebrows, and lets out a low stream of breath as the android begins to lick along his very ready cock.

Sirius closes his lips around his base after several indulgent passes of his tongue across the head, taking him deep and easily, and shocks Remus’ system perfectly with a hum low in his throat. “That’s a yes then?” Remus groans, looking down to see Sirius gazing up him. The android nods with euphoric desperation, those incessantly lovely eyes like kerosene fires lit from the burn of his processor core, and redoubles his effort of seeing Remus off into the stars. Remus bites down on his tongue and seals off his mental access to words that might even chance at turning into the three time bombs that want to keep pushing their way forward and gives himself over to the captivating burn of his own sort of sensory overload.

—

A particularly violent storm wracks the city the next day, keeping Remus in bed until midmorning for the comfort of staying curled in the sheets amidst the rioting weather outside. Sirius sleeps in stasis beside him, his sensory settings returned to normal along with the deep comforting pink of his processor core light.

They had fooled around yesterday until Remus could hardly stand, pushing Sirius to such a limit that he outpaced his system’s refresh rate and ran out of ejacluate fluid after an hour, bringing Remus along so gradually that he saw blue behind his eyelids when he finally came with a shout so sharpened that it felt like speaking the blade of a knife instead of Sirius’ name. Remus had reset Sirius’ systems from a boneless sprawl on his back on the sitting room floor, the voice commands hoarse and slurred for the sex-drunk torpor in his blood, and their following cleanup and quiet evening had lit a secretive little flame of appreciation in Remus’ chest. Sirius had carried him to bed when Remus was too tired to keep his eyes open for another old movie, and Remus had slept a deep and healing sleep that he feels now in the freshness of his sight and the cool-water flow of his thoughts. He looks over at Sirius and smiles slightly to himself before sitting up at the edge of the bed.

Of course the android feels the displacement of the mattress and eases up out of stasis. He shifts over to Remus’ side of the bed and kisses him between the shoulderblades, wrapping a solid arm around Remus’ midsection to pull him slightly closer.

“Morning,” Remus murmurs through another smile that takes over his mouth without warning, a sunny-feeling tip of his cheeks that offsets a long rattle of thunder beyond the plexi across the room.

“It’s due to rain like this for two days,” Sirius says against Remus’ skin, kissing him twice more between the words.

“Color me surprised,” Remus sighs through a stretch. He turns to dip down and meet Sirius’ lips, kissing the smooth perfection there in a couple of slow, waking presses.

“Would you like breakfast?” Sirius asks, splaying his fingers where they lie on Remus’ stomach to trace along his skin with so much idle contentment that it makes Remus’ heart flex between his lungs.

“Not quite yet,” Remus manages to say. He eases himself back down, bringing Sirius to prop up on one elbow beside him in a protective sort of lean, and looks up at the android for a long while. He traces the slopes of Sirius’ face with his eyes and lazy fingertips both, feeling strands of his inky hair in slow sweeps of his hand, and absorbs the way Sirius’ core deepens to a ruby red and pulses gently at the same rate as Remus’ heartbeat. _If there’s nothing left in the world besides this, I’ll take it gladly,_ Remus thinks to himself.

“You look very happy,” Sirius murmurs eventually.

“You make me very happy,” Remus whispers. He watches Sirius’ pupils focus and refocus several times, the light behind them flickering with what looks like pleasant surprise, and Remus smiles a bit brighter to himself. “Do you feel happiness, Sirius?”

They’ve had similar conversations about Sirius' emotions several times before, often mired in postcoital bewilderment or the comfortable scrim of drunkenness on Remus’ end, but never in such a level atmosphere.

“I’m programmed to feel the equivalent of all necessary brain chemistry for pleasure and care,” Sirius explains gently, meshing his fingers loosely with Remus’ as Remus reaches up to press their hands together in the air between them. “So technically, yes.”

“Do I make you happy too?” Remus asks in a soft voice. Another peal of thunder rattles the sky, but the blessed quiet of the bedroom persists as though the only reality that matters is that which Remus has fostered in such accidental idyll between himself and the android.

“Sometimes I try to run recursion trees on the results of my system potentially ending up with somebody else, in a different unit” Sirius says after a brief pause. “A different part of the city, a different routine, a different life. Thinking about those potentials always triggers a very deep-rooted sense of resistance in my code.” Sirius kisses the back of Remus’ hand entwined in his own and meets the wide expecting stare Remus has fixed on him, holding his breath accidentally to hear the result of the question he hasn’t thought to ask the android in almost an entire year of being beside him. “And then I think of you,” Sirius murmurs simply, “and the resistance lifts, and I can process freely again. So yes, you also make me very happy.”

Sirius brings Remus’ hand back up to his mouth and slowly kisses each one of his fingers—soft presses of beautiful secrecy, as if to say _This gentleness all there is worth taking, and we’ll take it as we please._

“I love you.”

Remus’ throat catches around his own words, mutinous breath leaving his body alongside the admission, secrecy shattering like ice in his lungs. His eyes go wide, not believing he’s just betrayed his innermost iron walls until he sees Sirius’ processor core flicker to his own quick rabbit’s heart hammer and shift down into a rich indigo shade. He reaches for an apology, anything to take it back and prevent a catastrophe of man against machine that will doubtless shatter his heart, but all that comes out again is the same incessant confirmation of his own folly; “I love you, Sirius.”

The android’s eye flicker across Remus’ face, drinking him in, pupils dilating to their fullest extent, as his eyebrows knit slightly at their center.

“What does it feel like?” Sirius asks.

Remus takes a moment to catalogue the fact that Sirius hasn’t launched into a screed against human feelings, and he thinks at the front of his mind for the first time that perhaps every novel and movie and piece of dime-bag media about humans falling in love with droids has gotten it wrong. Of course Sirius understands what feelings are. Of course he can see at the very least the logic behind his connection with Remus—mutually assured health, traded pleasure, shared shelter. Perhaps Remus just needs to help him bring a few of the foggier details into the light.

“I—feel safe, with you. When you lie with me, or when you do things to help me or take care of me. And you know how to make me feel...good, how to make me come but also how to make me laugh,” Remus explains steadily, his heart still racing but his voice finding a bit more purchase on his breath. “You know all about me, why I’m hurt and why I get angry or sad sometimes or—just need to be alone, and I know it’s in your programming to respond to my mood and my vitals but you’re _here_ , Sirius. You’re here with me after a long time, and that’s more than can be said for anybody else I’ve ever shared my life with. Human or otherwise.”

Remus swallows around a sudden press of emotion, determined not to cry, and he staves it off expertly but not without the flash of a worried look from Sirius. “Have I upset you?” he asks, thumbing tenderly at Remus’ cheek.

“No, I’m just less than used to wrestling with these sorts of emotions,” Remus insists, shaking his head against the pillow beneath him and stilling himself with a breath. He stares up at Sirius with mute regard for a handful of surprisingly comfortable moments, the air missing the sort of heady thickness that would doubtless be clouding the room had he just admitted something like this to a human. Remus already feels lighter having aired the secret like a fusty jacket, and he puts a reassuring hand overtop of Sirius’ own with a small smile when the android continues to frown slightly. “You don’t have try and grapple with them to make me feel better, it’s alright.”

“I would like to grapple, if that’s alright as well,” Sirius replies. Remus sniffs a surprised laugh at that, taken aback by the assertion in Sirius’ voice, and sits up a bit higher against the wall behind him.

“Go right ahead.”

Sirius’ processor core flickers back up to a warm garnet color, and the light within it circles its perimeter through a slow cycle of brightness tracing itself around and around in a perfect analogue of thought for a handful of seconds. Remus watches it in silent fascination, only kept from reaching out to touch it by its sudden return to a solid glow as Sirius nods.

“I’ve grappled,” he says plainly. Remus smiles broadly despite himself, chuckling in a hapless jag of adoration.

“Alright,” Remus replies expectantly. Sirius looks at him with an even gaze and a placid expression and touches lightly at the swell of Remus’ bottom lip.

“At its core, your definition of love for me is based on care and gratification,” Sirius explains, as though he were discussing the specifications of resistor settings instead of the complexities of human emotions. The clinical cast of it is offset completely by his lean over Remus and the gentle thumb tracing a pattern across his lip. “If I examine the way you benefit my existence, it’s plain to see you take exceedingly good care of me through home repairs and making sure my systems are calibrated properly. By default you gratify me, by allowing me to seek my prime directive of giving pleasure in addition to granting me permission to release that same pleasure well and often. If I take all of this into account, I do believe that I love _you,_ Remus.”

Sirius looks mildly pleased with himself when he finishes, his conclusion punctuated with a proud-looking sutter in his pupil apertures, and Remus has to be the one to pull him into a gentle kiss after a split second of dumbfounded suspension.

An android, professing love. If he’d been told his was his future ten months ago with the S-04 box taking up space in his sitting room, Remus would have returned the unit without ever opening for the jag of fear that potential used to cause in his guts. He had thought androids were only for labor and fucking, base machines without the capacity to do anything besides copy consciousness behind a pretty shell of a body.

He had been so wrong.

Remus pulls back from the kiss and revels in the depth of Sirius’ eyes, the fathomless points of lights looking now like the promise of forever reaching back into the comforting unknown of Sirius’ nascent subconscious. “Alan Turing is absolutely somersaulting in his grave right now, I hope you know this,” Remus says softly, finally lending a bit of true levity to the air.

Sirius laughs, an open-throated and free-ringing laugh to rival the rumble of the storm outside, and Remus feels his heart tug at its edges with warm satisfaction as the android looks back down at him flush with approval. “I have it on good authority that he was apparently more of a cartwheeler.”

Remus reaches up and wraps his arms around the android, pulls him back down into the sort of kiss with a destination written into it like nature’s most rudimentary programming, and smiles against the lips made to fit his like the perfect match they are.

**Author's Note:**

> Joke's on me, I made a scenario that owns my soul now because it's too dang fun to write for :V Honestly, androids running on a cobbled combination of Python and C are the most far-fetched part about this series hahaha
> 
> I even made a playlist for this AU because I'm a predictable garbage can!! Link can be found in the series description, it's lots of low-fi tunes since I write for this one often when the weather is gloomy and begets that sort of vibe :>
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this one, thank you as ever for reading ^^


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